


Cold In Winter

by redh00d0utlaw



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: M/M, band au, but also fluff, prepare yourself for angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-01-17 21:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12374898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redh00d0utlaw/pseuds/redh00d0utlaw
Summary: Steve failed the bar exam, okay? It's not THAT big of a deal (yes it is). After moping around on his best friend Tony's couch for a week, Steve gets a job as a manager for an up and rising band on Tony's label, Cold in Winter. The band is a rowdy bunch of jerks and Steve seriously questions Tony's judgement. But lead singer James "Bucky" Barnes seems to be more than meets the eye.





	1. Cold In Winter

    Crash.   
    Steve mentally added five hundred dollars to the expenses for this gig.  
    Crash.   
    Dammit. Another hundred. They were going to be lucky to break even.  
    Wham.  
    Steve softly banged his head against the wall backstage, wondering where in his life he went wrong to end up here. Oh, that’s right. He failed the bar. Three times. But still. It would have been nice if Tony had gotten him a better job than a manager for possibly the most destructive rising band, Cold in Winter.   
    A sigh of relief. Steve recognized the last song as their finisher, one that would leave the crowd wanting more. More as in the CDs and band merchandise at the front of the club. If tonight “more” meant another song Steve might start smashing things himself.   
      
    Ask Steve a year ago, while he was still in law school, what he thought of managing a band, and he would have laughed. Steve had his life laid out before him: graduation, then a job with his friends Nelson and Murdock, marrying his girlfriend Peggy, and finding a nice place to live in Brooklyn. All he had to do was get through the bar. And that just didn’t happen.  
    It wasn’t that Steve didn’t know the laws or proceedings. He recited the Constitution instead of counting sheep before bed. And it wasn’t that he was a bad test taker either. He had ridden all through school on A’s, even being valedictorian at his high school.  
    Something was just different about the bar. Each time he sat down to take the test, he suddenly felt like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole, and utterly wrong.   
    Peggy had never said that it bothered her, but he could tell the signs. Besides, she was joining the Peace Corps, and long distance relationships never worked out. They parted as friends and still talked every once in a while. However, parting as friends didn’t stop Steve from moping at Tony’s place for a week, until he forced Steve off his ass and working for his music label. And here he was.  
      
    “ENCORE. ENCORE. ENCORE. ENCORE.”  
    Steve pressed his face into his sleeve and wept. Goodbye budget. Goodbye food.  
    “Alright guys,” James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, lead singer crooned, “here’s a little one just for you.”  
    Steve massaged his temples as the venue full of teenage girls squealed. Why him.   
    Bucky nodded towards Natasha Romanoff, lead bass, and Loki Laufeyson (Steve KNOWS that has to be fake) on drums. A half smile edged across Natasha’s face, as her fingers gan to caress the strings of her guitar.   
be    Steve was drawn in as he began to hear Bucky on guitar. The song was familiar, but definitely not something the band wrote. Steve’s foot began tapping subconsciously, as he tried to place the rhythm. Ah yes. REM’s “Losing My Religion”. Steve was surprised. He didn’t realize that the band was familiar with older songs, let alone appreciated them. He was even more surprised when Bucky’s voice crooned the lyrics, softly at first.  
    “That’s me in the corner,” Bucky crescendoed. “That’s me in the spotlight, losing my religion.”   
    Steve closed his eyes and tried to relax to the music. This job wasn’t so bad, he reminded himself. It was certainly better than laying around on Tony’s couch. Steve drummed his fingers against the wall and took another look at the audience. He watched as a girl flashed her bare breasts at Bucky. Phenomenal. Faith in humanity gone.   
    He turned his focus back to the band. They weren’t necessarily bad, but it was far from his type of music. They typically wrote songs that 13 year olds in their “edgy” phase would love, but every once in awhile Steve gets surprised. Tonight was certainly one of those times. Steve was snapped out of his train of thought by the tap of his shoulder.  
    “Steve!”  
    “Hey, Tony.”   
    Tony Stark was very rich and was the kind of person to show it off. From his designer three piece suit to his designer sunglasses, he was quite the antithesis to Steve’s frayed denims and thrift store button up. But even if Steve was a lawyer and was making a hefty salary, he still didn’t think that he would spend as much money or time on clothes as Tony did. Regardless of their differences, Tony was Steve’s best friend and Steve knew he had his back.   
    “Hard to believe they started off in a garage, huh?” Tony asked with a smirk.  
    “I suppose,” Steve admitted, “But I guess it’s not really my type of music.”  
    “That’s right, you like grandpa music. I personally like the music that makes me money.”  
    “They’ve released like one album, Tony. And it was far from golden.”  
    “It will be, Steve. Trust me on this one. I’ve got an eye for potential. That’s a compliment for you, by the way.”  
    “Yeah, some potential. Where exactly is my law degree?”  
    “Relax, Steve. It probably wasn’t meant to be.”  
    Steve crossed his arms. “It felt like it was.”  
    “Everyone hits some bumps in the road along the way. And if you can find a better paying job with your current status, be my guest to leave. But until then, you get to enjoy cleaning up this financial mess.”  
    “Don’t remind me.” Steve rubbed his temples. “I’m thinking we’re down a thousand in repair costs.”  
    “Ha! That’s nothing. We’ll make that back in increased music sales alone, not even including the mass amounts of tickets we’ve sold for tonight. Don’t be so worried.” Tony paused for a second, studying Steve’s pouting face. “Aha! I know what this is. You’re just jealous you weren’t their manager earlier, taking some of that oh-so-sweet commission. Don’t worry Steve, once they hit golden you’ll be raking it in, like me.” Tony waggled his eyebrows.  
    “It is DEFINITELY not the money. It’s just, I don't know…” Steve studied the band. “I just never saw myself here.”  
    “Isn’t that part of the fun? The thrill of adventure!” Tony winked. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some asses to kiss,” he remarked, turning with a wave.    
    “Bye, Tony.”  
“MAKE ME MONEY, STEVE.”  
    Steve turned his attention towards the stage, where the band was exiting. The crowd was still screaming, despite the absence of anyone on stage. He sighed. Hopefully they wouldn’t break anything else.   
    The band brushed past Steve as he fumbled for his tablet. He hated the way they looked at him, like he was a fresh piece of meat. Of course, it could all be in his imagination and they might not have anything against him. But it was extremely difficult to tell with all that eyeliner.  
    Steve sent a few emails on his tablet, and then went to help the stagehands clear the stage and the venue. It wasn’t part of his job; he just wasn’t particularly looking forward to getting back to the tiny tour bus Cold in Winter called home. It reminded him too much of the dorm rooms of college. Steve was going to make sure that there was a place in the budget for a much nicer, much larger one in the future. 

…

    Cold in Winter’s tour bus was a repurposed one that had once been the go-to vehicle of a mariachi band, and before that, served as the dormitory for four college students who thought it was ridiculous to pay so much for housing. As such, it was an absolute hunk of junk. Steve prayed every time they attempted to start the engine that it would not break down in the middle of nowhere. His prayers were not always answered.  
    The cabin of the bus was far from homey. Apart from the smell, there were two sets of bunk beds that were rickety and once been painted a vibrant yellow. Natasha had attempted to take care of it with black spray paint, and the smell had never gone away. Loki and Natasha slept in one set of the bunk beds, which left Bucky and Steve on the other set. And of course Steve got the top bunk, where he tended to get nosebleeds and got to listen to the oh-so-sweet melody of Bucky’s horrible snoring. Needless to say, Steve did not sleep particularly well.   
    Steve quietly unlocked the door to the bus and snuck inside. Surprised that the band was all asleep, Steve checked the clock. Ah. 5:00 a.m. Which meant that Steve now hit his 24th hour of being awake. Fantastic.  
    Sneaking around the empty beer and vodka bottles, Steve alighted the ladder to the top bunk (which gave a creak that sent fear straight to his gut) and plopped in the covers. Bucky flipped over and his cacophony of snores increased in volume. Steve sighed, and fumbled for his earbuds. Perhaps some Johnny Cash would drown out Bucky’s snoring and help Steve sleep.  
    “I fell into a burning ring of fire…”  
    Steve blinked slowly, eyes searching the dingy ceiling. He didn’t know what he expected to find there, but with each passing glance and each verse of Johnny Cash’s smooth voice, Steve was lulled to sleep. 

    Steve did not have a peaceful night.  
      
    He was standing at his graduation ceremony. He looked into the crowd. After a bit of searching, he saw Peggy and Tony, grinning like idiots. He made it. After all his work, he was graduating. He was going to be a lawyer.  
    The dean held out his diploma and a hand ready to shake. But as Steve reached to grab it, his fingers passed through the diploma as if it were just a projection. Steve panicked, and reached again. And again his hand passed through the diploma.  
    His eyes met the dean’s in utter fear. The dean’s smile took on a more disturbing aspect, and Steve shrunk down in fear. The crowd laughed at him, pointing and mocking his failure. He was never going to be a lawyer. His future was over.   
The diploma melted, the stage melted, the dean melted, and oh god he was melting too make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop….  
Steve’s breath caught in his chest as he heard his alarm. It was time for a new day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because Cold in Winter was making its way up did NOT mean that there was any sort of luxury. Or anything close to satisfying basic human needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's incredibly overdue, but here's another chapter. Hoping that I'll be updating this and Wayne Manor more frequently.

Cold in Winter’s tour bus was a repurposed one that had once been the go-to vehicle of a mariachi band, and before that, served as the dormitory for four college students who thought it was ridiculous to pay so much for housing. As such, it was an absolute hunk of junk. Steve prayed every time they attempted to start the engine that it would not break down in the middle of nowhere. His prayers were not always answered.  
The cabin of the bus was far from homey. Apart from the smell, there were two sets of bunk beds that were rickety and once been painted a vibrant yellow. Natasha had attempted to take care of it with black spray paint, and the smell had never gone away. Loki and Natasha slept in one set of the bunk beds, which left Bucky and Steve on the other set. And of course Steve got the top bunk, where he tended to get nosebleeds and got to listen to the oh-so-sweet melody of Bucky’s horrible snoring. Needless to say, Steve did not sleep particularly well.  
Steve quietly unlocked the door to the bus and snuck inside. Surprised that the band was all asleep, Steve checked the clock. Ah. 5:00 a.m. Which meant that Steve now hit his 24th hour of being awake. Fantastic.  
Sneaking around the empty beer and vodka bottles, Steve alighted the ladder to the top bunk (which gave a creak that sent fear straight to his gut) and plopped in the covers. Bucky flipped over and his cacophony of snores increased in volume. Steve sighed, and fumbled for his earbuds. Perhaps some Johnny Cash would drown out Bucky’s snoring and help Steve sleep.  
“I fell into a burning ring of fire…”  
Steve blinked slowly, eyes searching the dingy ceiling. He didn’t know what he expected to find there, but with each passing glance and each verse of Johnny Cash’s smooth voice, Steve was lulled to sleep. 

Steve did not have a peaceful night.

He was standing at his graduation ceremony. He looked into the crowd. After a bit of searching, he saw Peggy and Tony, grinning like idiots. He made it. After all his work, he was graduating. He was going to be a lawyer.  
The dean held out his diploma and a hand ready to shake. But as Steve reached to grab it, his fingers passed through the diploma as if it were just a projection. Steve panicked, and reached again. And again his hand passed through the diploma.  
His eyes met the dean’s in utter fear. The dean’s smile took on a more disturbing aspect, and Steve shrunk down in fear. The crowd laughed at him, pointing and mocking his failure. He was never going to be a lawyer. His future was over.  
The diploma melted, the stage melted, the dean melted, and oh god he was melting too make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop….  
Steve’s breath caught in his chest as he heard his alarm. It was time for a new day.

Before Steve could even begin to process his nightmare, or the fact that it was, just a nightmare, the angry cacophony of “turn that fucking thing off” sounded from all sides. The band was not in the mood to be woken up while the sun was in any process of rising. Steve imagined he could feel the hangovers radiating off the band, like some kind of dark aura. He quickly turned the alarm on his phone off, and made the careful descent from the bunk.  
Steve stifled a yawn as he fumbled to turn on the coffee machine. God, he felt like he had been hit by a truck. That was what, the third nightmare this week? Absolutely lovely.  
As he inhaled his first coffee of the day, Steve checked his phone to see all the travel arrangements. According to his schedule, the next stop of the tour was….six hours away. Absolutely fucking perfect.  
This leg of the tour might just kill him. Driving all day and staying up nearly the whole night to babysit a bunch of adults was not his idea of a good time, or even a decent time, for that matter. He tried to mentally encourage himself, thinking of the money, but then remembering that he isn’t getting paid near enough to deal with this bullshit.  
Steve prepared his second cup and it took every fiber of his being to prevent him from adding some coffee liqueur. Or just drinking it straight from the bottle. Why was he always the designated driver? He swiveled his head to look over at the band, sleeping off who knows what kind of drug and alcohol mix. Yeah, it’s better this way.  
By the third cup, Steve finally felt ready to tackle the day. He popped in his earbuds, turned on the GPS, and began to drive. Or at least attempted to.  
Clack-clack-clack PLUNK. Clack-clack-clack PLUNK.  
Steve slowly banged his head on the steering wheel and wondered if he would just be better off flipping burgers. You get free food, right?  
With an exasperated sigh, Steve stood up and shuffled through the creaky door of the bus. The sun was coming over the tops of the buildings, and pierced through the parking garage that had been the temporary residence of the Cold In Winter tour bus. Steve squinted against the light, and braced himself to lift the hood up and see the damage.  
It wasn’t too bad, he guessed. Maybe it was that wire thing, or that tube thing, or…  
Steve did not know a damn thing about cars, especially not a rectangular hunk of junk that’s lucky it hasn’t been accordian’ed in a junkyard by now. He was pretty sure that it would be a mercy kill to get this bus in an accident. He sighed. Maybe he could just google it?  
Googling it was not a good idea. There are two things you never google: car issues and illnesses. Steve was entirely convinced the bus would engulf them in a fiery inferno, which perhaps wasn’t the most unlikely situation, but not particularly helpful.  
Steve gnawed on his lower lip. There was no room in the budget for repairs, let alone getting it towed for repairs. Plus that would set them off their time table by--wow okay things were pretty bad. What would they do? Uber there?  
Steve was painfully aware of the bead of sweat that slid down his forehead as he struggled to see a way out of this. What the hell was Tony thinking, giving him this job? That’s right, he’s Tony, he WASN’T thinking. Tony probably thought “Oh, Steve’s pretty smart, he can handle it.” Steve narrowed his eyes. Maybe he should replace the word “smart” with “naive”. He began to wonder who was doing who a favor here.  
He was jolted out of his self pity with the sound of the tour bus door slamming. Great. He gets to deal with the first of many unhappy campers. He turns around, and no surprise, it's the ringleader, Bucky. As if the day couldn’t get any worse.


End file.
